The Hudson River Line
by Principles of Magic
Summary: Katherine Pierce should have taken the train. A KatherinexElijah AU/AH New Year's Eve one-shot.


**AN: Hi lovelies, I would like to thank Beth (sqrlb8), my dear darling beta reader on this fun little project. Enjoy! **

"What do you mean, we've broken down?"

"Lady, please, I get this is an inconvenience—"

"An inconvenience?" she howled, her heels sinking into the snow. "An inconvenience is when the 6 train breaks down. This is a catastrophe. I need to be back by tonight, you do know what tonight is, right?"

The poor driver was freezing as he stood beside the bus in just his uniform and open jacket. The other passengers were obediently disembarking and gathering their luggage from the undercarriage.

However, this one had been arguing with him for the last ten minutes in nothing but a glittery red dress and a fierce sense of entitlement, bare-shouldered and belligerent in the cold Adirondack air.

Unless she knew something about fixing radiators, she should really go inside with the others and let him do his job.

"Listen, lady, sorry but you ain't the only one. I got a bus full of folks here who were planning on being back for New Year's too, but we can't go nowhere until Donovan gets his boys here to fix the problem and that ain't happening til tomorrow morning-at the earliest."

"Are you telling me I'm going to miss New Year's?"

"Look, I'm just saying you're gonna have to move the party here. You think you got problems? I got problems. I'm supposed to be taking this baby here out to Rochester 7am tomorrow—no way that's happening now, is it? So let's work with what we got, eh? Now I've spoken to the kind folks who own this lodge and they are willing to give everyone a room for the night—yes, the bus company will cover the charge, so please, can you put something one before you freeze and go inside?"

Katherine huffed, her breath crystallizing in the cold. Her gaze followed the passengers as they made their way to the lodge's main entrance.

The establishment in question was more motel, less mountain resort. She frowned; it wasn't that she had someone waiting for her back in the city; she just didn't feel like ringing in the New Year alone with a bag of peanuts and Pay-Per-View.

After all, this year was supposed to be better.

"And you're sure you can't just push the thing down the mountain?"

He wasn't sure this lady was sane.

"Lady, I told you-"

"Perhaps, I can help."

They both turned to see who had spoken and Katherine was surprised to see it was the quiet fellow from the bus. They had bumped into each other briefly earlier when he helped fold her coat into the overhead compartment.

He had already retrieved his suitcase from under the bus and was also balancing a cardboard box under his arm; it was partially covered with something long and black.

Katherine looked him up and down through narrowed eyes: a dark suit underneath a wool coat, probably a business type, probably coming down from the same big conference in Albany she was returning from herself

He was not the most unattractive man she had ever seen but unless he knew how to fix a coach she wasn't too interested in his offer to help.

"You?" she opened, doubt thick in her voice. She didn't see a wrench in his hand.

"Yes, me," he smiled, maneuvering the item off the box and handing it to her.

It was her coat that she had left in the overhead.

"Hey, that's mine," she barked, snatching it from his hand.

She hadn't forgotten it; she'd simply left it on the bus because she figured this unfortunate business with the broken bus would only take a few minutes.

"Perhaps," he continued, pointing out a possible silver lining, "New Year's is not cancelled. We are all in the same boat here and I think if we work together some festivity can be salvaged. I'm sure the kind owners of this…_establishment_…have some records, a fireplace; we'll clear away the furniture for a dance floor. It's no Copacabana, Miss—"

"Pierce," she snapped, crossing her arms over her freezing chest, her coat forgotten in her hand.

"Well, Miss Pierce, it's no club but I have a case of champagne that might make it an evening suitable to your taste."

With a smile he readjusted the box under his arm so that she could see the label.

She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not, but she did know expensive champagne when she saw it. Perhaps it was right; maybe she should just go inside and try to make the best of a bad situation. Or maybe-

"I should have just taken the train," she concluded bitterly.

It was starting to snow again.

"Is that a 'yes,' Miss Pierce?"

Reluctantly, she wrapped her coat around her shoulders and moved around the tall stranger to finally retrieve her bag from the snow bank. Returning toward the front of the bus, she pointed a threatening finger at the bus driver.

"I am sending a very strongly worded letter to Greyhound as soon as you get me back to civilization, Mr. Lockwood."

And then to the man who was trying to bribe her with alcohol.

"Fine, but I get a whole bottle to myself."

He watched her disappear, dragging her suitcase behind her as she followed the path from the road toward the lodge. The driver rolled his eyes, muttering "unbelievable" before nodding to him and climbing back onto the bus.

He had to agree; this was all quite unbelievable.

He first saw Miss Pierce on Wednesday, the first day of the conference. They were in line together at the registration table and he couldn't help but notice from her nametag that she was from the city; and - that she was absolutely stunning. On Thursday, he noticed that she was presenting that afternoon; he sat in the back and watched her command the room like she was the Queen. On Friday, he tried to muster up the courage to ask for her number during a seminar on effective marketing strategies, but the opportunity (and the courage) never materialized.

On Saturday, he overheard her arguing with the Greyhound ticket office on her phone. So he traded his Amtrak ticket in for a seat on the 8:15 bus and prayed that maybe, just maybe, the seat next to her would be free.

It wasn't.

But now thanks to an overheated engine, he just might have a chance after all.

/

"Six Minutes!"

The tiny crowd roared in anticipation, recklessly dancing and royally drunk. Elijah was pleased with his work.

He had called everyone out of their rooms, knocking on doors one at a time, inviting everyone into the lobby to not let the champagne get warm. Like survivors stranded on an island, the passengers had pooled their resources, everyone digging into their suitcases and duffels to see what they could contribute to this shantytown shindig.

Their stash included:

Everything they had scavenged from the mini-fridges

3 bottles of wine (one white, two red) courtesy of Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert

Some odd green liquor from the guy from Canada

2 packs of cigarettes from the kid in Room 22

And of course, Mr. Mikaelson's case of champagne

Since chips and candy bars do not a dinner make, everyone was feeling pretty swell having begun to drink on empty stomachs.

The lodge owners, a kind mother and daughter team, did indeed have a record player and rolled it out onto the makeshift dance floor; Billy Joel currently had everyone in a swoon and singing along to _New York State of Mind_ at various octaves and at various speeds.

_Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood._

"Please mind the lamps!" Ms. Forbes was shouting. "Not on the table!"

"Five minutes!"

Katherine was dancing by herself quite happily. No, this was definitely not the Bennett Ballroom: there was no sushi buffet, no Times Square view, not even a disco ball.

But there was an open bar, and in the end she did indeed end up with her very own bottle of champagne. Earlier he had knocked on her door, repeatedly and very loudly, until finally she opened it just a crack.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Pierce. I just wanted to let you know: everyone is gathering in the lobby at 10 for the party. There will be…snacks… and I've been told this place has a rather large vinyl collection."

She opened the door a little wider.

"I'm intrigued. Keep talking."

He wasn't sure what to say now.

"Well, as I was saying, there will be music, though I can't guarantee it will be from this decade."

He noticed she hadn't changed out of her red dress and so added: "Do you dance? You look ready to dance."

"Are you asking me to dance," she said quickly, raising an eyebrow.

"I—no," he started, unsure himself what he was asking. "I just meant there will be dancing…in general."

"Oh, well, then what's in it for me?"

He handed a bottle to her over the threshold. There was a silly black and white party bow tied to the neck that she was sure he added just for her.

"Happy New Year," he had said.

"Yeah, same," was all he got before she closed the door on him.

She chewed on her lip, wondering why he seemed so familiar thinking about it now.

_But I know what I'm needing and I don't want to waste more time._

Katherine cringed at how off-tune everyone was, but at least they were having fun.

From her place in the corner by the horrible Van Gogh knock-off she watched them all: some dad who had let his two sons drink _just this one time don't tell mom_, an old couple who reminded her of Titanic and made her sad, a young couple who might as well just have sex the way they were dancing.

Oh, and champagne guy.

She finished off her bottle and setting it on the table emerged from her corner.

"Coasters, people, coasters!" Ms. Forbes was still yelling.

_It was so easy living day by day, out of touch with the rhythm and blues._

"Four minutes, everyone!"

Shaking off the headache the alcohol (or the singing) was giving her, Katherine didn't realize she almost walked right into someone which would have been disastrous since he was carrying two flutes of champagne.

"Miss Pierce."

"_You."_

"I have a name."

"You stole my coat."

"I simply retrieved it for you from the bus. You appeared to have forgotten it—in 20 degree weather."

She threw her curls off her shoulders, coming up with nothing to say in response.

Okay, so maybe she had overreacted earlier. She wasn't a fan of unexpected surprises.

"Well, thank you then," she forced out, not completely insincerely.

She was rewarded with a smile.

"And right now I was simply bringing you a glass, for the countdown."

"How thoughtful," she sang, taking the flute with a smile of her own.

"You were at the conference, up in Albany," he began. "I saw you there, your presentation was wonderful."

"You're _stalking me?" _

He laughed and for some reason it sounded like spring had come early.

"My firm is working with your publishing house on that new Salvatore novel series. They wanted me up here this weekend to hear you speak. I hope we have the opportunity to do a presentation or something together soon."

She shook her head incredulous.

"Are you talking business? At a New Year's party?"

"Three minutes!"

He had to admit to himself she made him nervous. He could talk to a room of hundreds but he never felt so nervous as he did right now.

He extended his arm in a vulnerable gesture.

"Well, I was going to say you look stunning tonight, but I wasn't sure if that was appropriate and I didn't know what else to say."

_Smooth_, Katherine thought, a sly smiling creeping over her face.

"Oh," she offered, restarting the conversation. "I'm Katherine."

"I know," he smiled dumbly. "-I mean, I'm Elijah, Elijah Mikaelson."

_It comes down to reality, and it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide._

_Ten!_

Katherine's face lit up.

"It's starting, this is it

_Nine! Eight!_

"Thank you, Elijah," she confessed, "for putting this together. All of this."

_Seven! Six!_

"Not at all, I could tell New Year's Eve is an important day for you, I didn't want you to have to miss it."

_Five! Four! _

"It is. It's the last day of the year. If there was ever a time to take a chance, it's tonight, it's now."

_Three!_

"Because tomorrow is a new year," he added.

_Two!_

"That's right. And tomorrow you will regret the chances you didn't take."

_One!_

"I couldn't agree more," Elijah whispered, tunneling his fingers through her soft curls and bringing his lips down upon hers.

_What an unexpected surprise, _she thought, pulling him closer.

He reluctantly broke their kiss as the celebration continued around them.

"Happy New Year, Katherine."

"Happy New Year, Elijah."

_I don't have any reasons, I've left them all behind._

_I'm in a New York state of mind._

As the music died down and the chorus of Auld Lang Syne rose to take its place, Katherine intertwined her hand in his as together they made their way to the window, where outside, the stoner kid from Room 22 was setting off illegal fireworks to ring in the New Year.

Tomorrow she would have to go back to the city.

Tomorrow she was going to have a killer hangover.

And okay fine, tomorrow she would apologize to the poor bus driver for all the grief she had given him.

Katherine could see Elijah's reflection in the window; he was watching her as she watched the fireworks.

Tomorrow was also a new day, a new year, the start of a fantastic year especially if how it had started was any indication of that.

_And what's the hurry?_ Katherine thought, turning back to Elijah. _Tonight was still young._

**_Reviews appreciated (it's what writers eat to stay alive!)._**


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